


Fiendfyre

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Fiendfyre curse, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco recounts the moments he spent in the Room of Requirement, facing imminent death by the Fiendfyre curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fiendfyre

**Author's Note:**

> Edited and reposted: was originally written on October 9th 2011.

Fiendfyre

I thought I was going to die. 

Well, maybe not 'thought' but 'believed'. The Room of Requirement was an inferno. I clutched desperately to the top of a crumbling shelf and thought _this is it_. Everywhere that I looked, something was crumbling, turned into nothing more than dust.

Chimeras, snakes, lions—every animal you could ever imagine—rose up from the fire, a thousand times bigger than what their corporeal counterparts were supposed to be. Their fiery jaws opened, devouring anything in their paths. The carnage was just unimaginable. I could hardly believe what I was seeing.

Vince finally succeeded in being the biggest moron on the planet, and he died because of his stupidity. I should know; I saw it. The idiot, once he realised that he could not control the fire, dropped his wand and everything went to hell; a chimera lunged out of his wand, and seemed to survey the area before it spotted Vince, trembling and crying from terror. It swayed as it turned on him, and before he could even scream, the fiery jaws closed upon him and he was gone.

His awful demise prompted Greg and I into action. We couldn't go any other way but up, for the fire had encircled us and was drawing ever closer, so the only way we could go was up. Delaying the inevitable, it felt like. Prolonging what was always meant to be.

Of course, the Golden Trio managed to get out safely. Or, at least, they would have a much more decent chance than Greg and I. At that point, I didn't know what had happened to them. But they'd always had all the luck, and I knew they'd make it out. The fire was much more treacherous near Greg and I, as we'd been standing close to a complete _idiot_ when the inferno started.

This was an extremely horrible and unfair way to die. I felt sorry for Vince.

As we reach the very top of the shelf with nowhere else to go, Greg collapsed in a dead faint from the smoke inhalation. Why does he get the reprieve, and I have to stay awake, choking for breath, clutching at him in the hopes that I wouldn't have to die alone? If he was still alive, I wasn't going to let him plunge into the flames. Say what you want about me, but when it comes to my friends I am not that cruel.

Not really.

But as I clung to him, sobbing and praying for my life, everything got shoved into perspective.

I had spent my entire life up to that point trying to follow in _Daddy Dearest's_ footsteps, and look where it got me. Death by fire. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love father; it's just hard to forgive someone when they took you by the hand and helped you walk down this path since birth. It's even harder to realise that I had only come to this conclusion when I thought my life was over.

Then again, it's my fault, too; why couldn't I think for myself sooner?

I heard a faint whooshing sound over the roaring of the fire, and looked up. My heart clenched in anger as I saw three broomsticks shoot up into the air. A decent chance of survival had turned into definite survival for the Golden Trio. Fucking arseholes always got lucky in the worst situations, while the rest of us paid with our lives.

 _Please let the fire burn through me quickly,_ I was thinking. _If I have to die, don't let me die in pain._

The shelf tilted as it crumbled. My stomach threw itself up into my throat. I screamed in horror, clutching Greg tighter and reaching out to grab something to stop my plunge to the pit of hell beneath me. I was not ready to die. I will never be ready to die.

But this was the end, and acceptance came right after denial and anger. I was going to die, and that was that. I found myself thinking that maybe there was something better waiting for me on the other side, if I was lucky enough for _that_.

The shelf swayed precariously, and I thought the last thought I was ever going to have was that I never said goodbye to Mother and Father the last time that I saw them.

"Malfoy, grab my hand!"

My eyes open. I never thought I would be so grateful to see Harry Potter coming toward me to save me. _Me!_ He must've heard my scream, for what else could have made him turn around? Without a second thought, I reached for Potter's hand and it slipped from my grasp; our palms were too sweaty and Greg was too heavy. He'd never get us off the crumbling shelf. My options were to abandon Greg to die and climb up behind Harry, or wait until Granger and Weasley got Greg onto the back of their broom.

So I waited, watching through tear-filled eyes as Harry circled once around the shelf, coming up in front of me with his hand outstretched. I didn't reach out and take it immediately, shocked that I was going to get out of this alive when I had already convinced myself that I was going to die. He was shouting at me to hurry up and get on, but I refused to move; I wouldn't go until I knew that Greg was going to be safe.

"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, HARRY!" Ah, Weasel. Always going for the irony in the worst situations.

I watched in relief as Granger and the Weasel slung Greg over their broom and took off again, flying a little lower due to all weight piled on it. I managed to snatch Potter's hand just as the shelf crumbled and gave way. He swung me up on the broom, making sure I was on securely before he flew away.

I clutched Potter tightly and couldn't stop myself from screaming. I was terrified; I wanted to get out of the Room of Requirement, I wanted out of this war, and I wanted out of this role as a Death Eater. Figures that I nearly had to die for 'the cause' for me to realise all this. There had to be something wrong with me.

" _What are you doing? What are you doing? The door is that way!_ " I screeched when Harry spun in the opposite direction and dived, avoiding fiery chimeras through pure skill and luck alone. I would have difficulty looking at any of these creatures without thinking of this day.

Potter caught something, but the smoke was too thick for me to make out much more than sparkles. It sat on Potter's wrist until he swerved and dropped it by mistake. He cried out, but he didn't dare try and retrieve it. We burst out of the room and the doors swung shut behind us.

Never again would I take for granted a breath of fresh air. As my body thumped to the ground, I took in deep, shuddering breaths, pressing a hand to my aching chest. We were out of the room, all five of us. Five, when there should have been six.

"C-Crabbe," I choked. I wanted to scream and cry. Vince died after looking at me with contempt in his eyes when I tried to spare someone's life. Even if it was just for a few minutes. Contempt. I was used to someone like Potter looking at me like that, but not from someone I had always considered my friend. Not from someone I have known practically my whole life. "C-Crabbe …"

"He's dead," said Weasley harshly.

"Let's go," said one of them. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to figure out whom.

The Golden Trio left Goyle and I in the corridor without looking back.

Not for the first time since this shitstorm started, I wanted the war to be over. So I could have my family back. So I could mourn the dead properly. So I could hurt like a normal human. So I could be me again.

Just so I could begin again.


End file.
